Open Fire
by AfterTheFall
Summary: Harry starts having visions of a boy who has suffered just as much as he. Trying to find a way to communicate with him, Harry finds himself flung into a world far from his own, and comes to a deeper understanding of the feared Potion Master.
1. Default Chapter

**Open Fire.**

_Summary:__ Harry starts having visions of a boy who has suffered just as much as he. Trying to find a way to communicate with him, Harry finds himself flung into a world far from his own, and comes to a deeper understanding of the feared Potion Master._

_Warnings:__ Slash – RLSS, child abuse, mental illness such as schizophrenia, Depression and Bipolar Disorder, not to mention the usual blood, guts and violence. And swearing. _

_Notes:__ This is ultimately a Snape story, just told through the eyes of Harry. It will cross over into the worlds of Stargate: SG1 – namely with Dr Daniel Jackson – as well as Lord of the Rings, with major roles played by Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir. It's also been ages since I've seen/read LOTR, so any inconsistencies, I apologize._

_This is intended to be my first longer Harry Potter story, so reviews would be greatly appreciated._

* * *

_**Chapter One.**_

_He walks blindly through the thick bushes, stray branches scratching his face and hands as he moves forward, towards what, he did not know. Just that he needed to move forward, compelled by an unforeseen force to continue. _

_Twigs snapped beneath his feet, occasionally digging into his bare soles, but he paid it not attention. Nothing mattered but his destination, even the fact that this dense forest was as black as night, to the point that it appeared dead, went unnoticed by this young man. _

_As he travelled deeper, something in the back of his mind recalled a similar situation, a similar forest that held the same haunted feeling, which instilled the same sense of fear and foreboding that latched itself to your subconscious and would not release until you returned well into the circles of safety. _

_But it was easily quashed, as the need to arrive overtook him, over rode any rational feeling he may have felt. _

_Suddenly, he breaks into a steady jog, which quickly develops into a run, branches hitting him with every step, but he easily ignores the pain, because he knows he has arrived, his destination is just beyond these trees._

_Suddenly, he comes to a halt, as light begins to fill the once pitch black forest, so bright he is forced to shield his eyes from the unexpected onslaught. _

_As quickly as the bright light hits him, it dissipates, until only a slight shimmer of light basks the area. _

_It is not as dead as it appeared._

_Around him, trees reach far up, into the clouds, flowers blossom in every foreseeable direction, while a small trickle of water runs by his feet, joining a much larger river just meters away. _

_It was beautiful._

_His eyes darted around, in search of something, until they came to rest on a tree-like figure in the distance. He looked for intently at it, realising is was indeed a building, built around the trees, with a small courtyard in the centre. The architecture was astonishing._

_He quickly moved towards the structures, but stoped suddenly when he heard a high-pitched noise ring through his ears._

_It was laughter, he quickly realised, berating himself for such foolishness. _

_His heart slowed to it's normal pace and he continued towards the building once again. The laughter became louder, and he realised, belonged to a young child. It was soon joined by the voices of two older men, playfully teasing the child. _

_He made his way towards a tree, silently climbing up to gain a better view. He looked down and saw the two men whose voices he'd heard. Identical, they were, with a mischievous glint in their eyes. They reminded him of two other identical men, with the same cheekiness about them, though a little younger, with messy flaming red hair. Not the beautiful long brown hair that belonged to the two below him._

_A boy, no older than four, rushed past the two, in a state of hysterics. He ran circles around the two older men, his own long black hair trailing after him. Running passed the first, the second man quickly threw the little boy over his shoulder, clearly surprising the child. He tried to free himself, but was met with the cheeky smiling face of his older companion, who spoke to him in a language not understood by the boy watching the happy scene play out. _

_Moving his glance away from the scene, he saw an older man, with flowing long blonde hair, standing by a pilar, watching the scene play out as well. A small smile played on the older man's lips, as he lent a little against the pilar, crossing his arms across his chest. _

_But as he looked deeper into the man's eyes, he saw more than the happiness he himself was feeling. He saw pain, and grief and suffering. And fear, as if he knew the horrors that would lie ahead. _

_For, without warning, the tranquil scene quickly dissolved, as masked intruders invaded the small paradise. He was in awe of the transformation of the older man, as in an instant, he was no longer the sweet paternal figure he has assumed he was. He was now a warrior, armed with a mighty bow and curved sword with intricate carvings from the handle to the tip._

_He looked towards the other three. The two men now also looked ready for battle as the enemy moved in around them. One, he saw, lent down and whispered something to the terrified child. He could see the fear and the anger burning all at once in the small child's eyes._

_He had been told to run and hide, the boy in the tree knew it. He didn't know how, but he knew. But it was too late, the enemy was moving in around them. _

_Three against a countless army. _

_They jumped into the trees, firing at the onslaught, taking down many with just their arrows. Clearly, they were a force to be reckoned with, regardless of their appearance, they were quick capable warriors. _

_In spite all the odds, was believed there was a chance they could win this battle. But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he saw the older warrior fall, his wonderful carved sword still tightly in his grasp. _

_As the warrior collided with the hard cobble ground, he heard a voice ring out across the valley, of the small child he had heard laugh only 15 minutes before._

_His small, strangled voice could be heard across the valley, as he screamed out, "Ada! No!!'"_

* * *

Harry woke with a start, terrified he was to be the next killed, and for the four he'd been watching.

He slowly took in his surroundings, _Dorms…Griffindor Tower…_ and only when he was sure he was safe did he allow himself to breathe again.

It was still pitch black out, so he was sure the others would still be half asleep. Slipping into the shoes he kept by his bed, and removing a small book from his bedside draws, he tiptoed as quickly as he could into the common room. If he gained nothing else from the Dursley's, at least he now knew how to be dead quiet and not wake a sole.

He had been having dreams such as these for over a week now, but never had they been so _real_. He'd seen scraps of faces, places such as the one he'd visited tonight. The seemingly secret paradise filled with the happy men with long hair. But never, had he felt like he was there, never had it been coherent enough for him to take anything tangible from his nightly escapades.

But tonight, he remembered it as though he'd actually lived it. He'd seen bloody battle, he'd heard the voices of the people involved. He wanted to ignore it, _It's just a dream after all Harry_. He would hear a voice say. Funny how his voice of reason spoke _exactly_ like Hermione.

He took a set in the far corner, whispering a quick and low _Lumos_, he pulled out a quill left by one of his housemates and quickly wrote down the details of his latest dream.

Dumbledore had requested it when he informed the Headmaster of his visions of Voldemort. They had stoped a while ago, but Harry found comfort in continuing to write about his dreams. It was soothing, somehow.

But his sanctuary was soon destroyed by the entrance of another person, who has now standing in entrance opposite Harry.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't…Harry?"

Harry smiled as he recognised the voice, and noticed the large pile of books in the arms of the owner. _Only Hermione would be studying at this outrageous hour_ He thought to himself.

She moved over to her friend, putting the books down on the desk beside her, "What are you doing up their early?" he inquired, trying, and failing to see what he was writing about.

"I could ask you the same question, but judging by all those books.."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "NEWTs, Harry. In June"

He had to laugh, only to be met by her exasperated expression, "'Mione, it's February. You have a little time yet"

Ready to launch into lecture on the importance of said exams, she caught his mischievous smile, and knew he was only stirring. "..And you better keep it down too, wouldn't want someone walking out on us. Imagine the rumours" he teased.

She smirked, "Ron would have you head for moving in on me.." she whispered back, trying in vain to not laugh.

"I'd imagine he'd have _something_, though I doubt he'd start with my _head_" Harry responded, to which Hermione couldn't help but laugh at. Even if someone did walk out, the entire school knew that she and Ron together. And going steady.

And most of Griffindor house knew that the chances of Harry chasing Hermione, or any girl for that matter, was as high as Voldemort inviting Dumbledore over for a nice little tea party. And not hurting one and other.

Taking a seat next to him, she pulled out the top book, one that Harry doubted was on their reading list. "So you didn't answer me, why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep" he answered matter-of-factly, as he shut his tattered little book.

Hermione just nodded, knowing if he wished to speak of the source of his insomnia, he would in his own time.

She opened her book, and Harry, for lack of anything better to do, grabbed one himself.

_Might even learn something_.

But judging by the enormous size of the book, and the tiny script it held, he doubted he'd make much sense of _The Ancient Races of Earth._

Still, he opened the book, idly flicking through the pages, until he reached a picture that caught his attention. Bringing his wand up to inspect the picture under more light, he strained his memory to recall why it looked so familiar.

Then it hit him – the lush green trees, the rivers, the perfect architecture that looked at one with the nature surrounding it.

"Hermione, where is this?" He asked, pointing at the page in front of him.

She turned from her own book, peering at the picture Harry was pointing at. "Ah, it's mythical. It's called Rivendell in English, but I've seen it referred to Imlardris before too" she paused to look at the picture again, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Harry could only mutely nod, confused and slightly worried it had appeared in his dreams so constantly.

"Wait, you said it's only mythical?"

"Yes. Some wizards believe the place never even existed. Some of them say the entire race to which it was believed to have originated is too merely a fabrication. They did go looking for it about a decade ago, the few who believe in it. They found evidence it may have once existed, but nothing conclusive. Professor Binns is starting it in our next History of Magic class"

Usually, that was when Harry would make a sarcastic remark of the excitement he felt going into said classes, but he was too enthralled by what he was seeing, "Do _you_ believe in the place 'Mione? The people who lived there?"

She looked a little confused, Harry wasn't the type to have so much interest in a class even _she _had trouble staying awake in. "I...well…yes. Yes, there is evidence indicating it's more than just a fairy tale." She paused for a second, as she realised the sun was rising outside the common room window, "And it's nice to believe that such a wonderful place can exist in a world like this"

Harry nodded, still deep in thought, "Do you mind if I borrow this book?"

"Sure, go for it. I've read most of it anyway"

"Thanks Mione" he smiled, as the new rays started streaming through the window. Only when he went to turn, did Hermione notice his face.

"Harry, how did you get those scratches on your face?"

Confused, Harry brought his hand to his face, and sure enough, tiny scratches and little trails of dried blood remained on his face, "Oh. Seamus' cat. I don't think she likes me too much." He smiled, lying with ease.

Hermione mumbled something under her breathe on the intelligence of the cat, but not in so many words. Harry knew that said cat and Crookshanks didn't really get along.

Harry, with the book safely tucked under his arm, made his way back to his dorm, determined to figure out the mystery surrounding his latest dreams.

_To Be Continued._

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Reviews would be nice.

No really. They would.

No. Really.

Ok, I'm bored. Review, please kids :D


	2. Chapter Two

**That's for the reviews in Chapter One, kids; I really appreciate it ;) And Lilith, thanks for all your reviews in all my other stories, it's always nice when I check the reviews that I see your name there :D**

Open Fire  
Chapter Two

There were three things certain in this world, Harry concluded.

Death, Taxes and Snape's complete and utter lack of common decency.

Although, being a Wizard, he could, to quote Snape_ Put a stopper in Death_, and Tax evasion is pretty easy when you can apparate to Australia on a whim. So that left only Professor Snape his rather extensive character defects, which Harry doubted could be cured by even the most talented wizard or witch in this world or the next, as the one fact he could count on being constant.

"…I mean, it wasn't even his fault! I saw Malfoy sabotage Harry's potion!"

"…I know Ron…"

"…Hell, _Snape_ saw that bloody ferret sabotage Harry's potion!"

"…Yes Ron, I know, I was there, remember?"

"…He's such a bloody bias slimeball, Malfoy could have walked up to him, told him he's dropped the Dragon Blood into Harry's potion, caused it to explode all over the Dungeon, he's still have somehow blamed Harry! The bloody sun would still shine out of that annoying gits arse"

Harry couldn't help but laugh as both Ron and Hermione continued to argue, one of their strange flirting rituals after any class, but Potions seemed to create the most amusing show.

He agreed with Ron of course, Snape was a right prat, but he'd lived with his vindictiveness for the better part of 5 and a half years, he could stand another 18 months without blowing him up not unlike a certain Aunt. He laughed again at the image of Snape being deflated and helped off a chimneystack in Industrial Sheffield.

"What?" Ron asked, turning to his best friend.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing…" Harry tried to look at least a little serious, but failed miserably.

"Ron, Professor Snape isn't fair, that was established the first day we arrived, remember? Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that"

Ron shrugged his shoulders, he just like complaining about the greasy git, it was more of an outlet for all his frustrations than just his immense dislike for said teacher. "Detention?"

"Every night for the rest of the week…" Harry replied.

Harry settled down under a tree by the lake, pulling out the book he had borrowed off Hermione that morning. He'd been wanting to read further, but every time he got close, someone would interrupt.

But now, during his free session, with his 6th year peers either in class or studying, he finally had the peace and privacy he needed to continue his research in this mythical paradise.

He skimmed over the details of places such as the Realm of Gondor, of the Horse masters of Rohan and of the ancient race of the Dúnedain; the men of the North.

It was enthralling, that such a magnificent world could ever exist, and Harry continued reading, delving further into the wondrous Arda, but stoped suddenly as his eyes landed on a portrait of one of the inhabitants of the world. Dressed in battle attire, his long blonde hair whipping around his face, with his curved sword poised for battle. In the background, a city burnt, such a stark contrast to the previous images he had witnessed. But more than that, he knew this man. He was the same man who had fallen from the trees in his dream last night, he remembered the terrified scream of the tiny boy as the golden haired man fell to the cobble ground. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he continued to read, hoping to find _anything_ about his dreams.

_…. __The great Hidden City of Turgon was concealed from friend and foe alike during the First Age by the Encircling Mountains, and guarded from trespassers by the Eagles of Thorondor. However, __Morgoth's servants finally discovered Gondolin through the treachery of Maeglin, and it was sacked in I 510. Turgon was lost in the Fall of the City, but some few (including Tuor and Idril, with their child Eärendil) escaped the destruction and dwelt as Exiles at the Mouths of Sirion. Their escape was made possible by Glorfindel (_Pictured, left)_, a noble Elf of Gondolin, who battled with the Barlog in the Encircling Mountains. While Glorfindel defeated the Barlog, he too was slain in the battle, sent to the Halls of Mandos… _

He had a name, the figure of his dreams had a name! _Glorfindel_. Harry search the index for reference to the man he'd finally found.

"…_Glittering Caves…Glóin son of Gróin…Glóin son of Thorin I….Glóredhel…_" Harry muttered to himself until he came to what he was looking for, _Glorfindel of Gondolin._

_The Barlog Slayer…Noble Elf of Gondolin…Advisor to Lord of Rivendell…_

Harry jumped with a start, searching his surroundings. He was no longer in the Hogwarts grounds, is was much darker here. Colder, and damp. He reached for his wand, startled to find it wasn't there. He quickly scanned the dark room for any indication of where he may be.

He spun around, hearing hushed voices from the other corner of the room, straining his eyes to see who was there.

"_Hush, pentithen nîn_" Harry heard a soothing voice whisper, followed by a small whimper.

"_Ada..Bar..Saes..Ada, saes, dan Imlardris…" _Even though Harry couldn't see clearly, he knew it was the boy from his dreams. But he sounded so different here, broken, so unlike the high-spirited boy that had laughed with his older companions. Then he remembered the battle, the child's screams. Had they been captured? Had _he_ been captured? Was he simply dreaming again? _Was this even real?_

_"Istari, no harm will come to you. I will protect you." _As Harry's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could now make out the two figures against the wall. The older man, Harry could now see, was Glorfindel, the blonde-haired man from the book. His face, while now covered in dirt and blood, still held the same ethereal beauty as it did in the book, as well as his dreams. And, at the same time, he managed to give off an aurora of a Warrior who had seen many years of battle and war.

The little boy curled up closer to the older man, "_gwaedh, Ada?"_

"_I promise, Ion nîn_" He whispered, holding the small child closer.

A small crest of light entered the room, and Harry instinctively covered his eyes from the sudden onslaught, but recovered quickly enough to see the horribly deformed creatures enter the room, atrocious sadistic smiles on their warped faces. They reached for the child, but Glorfindel's reflexes were quicker than their sluggish ones. He shielded the small boy, which was met with blows from the creatures. Pounding into his flesh, his unprotected back and limbs, but he did not so much as flinch. The child beneath him clung to the older man like a lifeline, crying into his chest. Glorfindel held on tighter to his young charge, tears of pain falling from his eyes, but he refused to scream or give any other indication he was feeling their wrath.

Harry looked up as more creatures entered the room, 5 of them now, grabbed the older man with all their combined strength, and threw him across the room, directly into the opposite wall, stunning him for a few precious seconds, which gave the creatures the window they needed to grab the small boy.

"_Ada!! Daro_" The boy screamed, and the creatures turned their attention on him. Harry ran for the boy, to protect him from the horrible creatures, but he could do nothing. The monsters passed right through him and roughly picked the boy up, practically dragging him out of the room.

Glorfindel was quickly on his feet, running towards the terrified child and his captors, but was held back by the creatures, laughing at his futile attempts.

"_Stupid Elf. Nothing ya can do now, he's ours_" mocked one of the larger creatures.

_"Gwaur Yrch_" Glorfindel spat at the offending creatures, which was met by a sharp backhand to his face.

"_Never speak in that filthy tongue again, Elf_"

"_Natha daged dhaer!_" Glorfindel retaliated, trying to get the attention off the small boy, directing their anger at him instead.

However, it did not work. Instead of the creatures turning on him, the larger one took hold on the boy, squeezing his little arms to bring him closer. The boy flinched as the creature brought his face closer to his, expecting to be hit. Instead a pointed black tongue left the creatures lips, and licked the boys face, leaving a trail of black saliva up his cheek. Harry felt physically sick as he watched the boy squirm, and, in turn, horror pass over Glorfindel's face.

"_Leave him. Your quarrel is with me, the boy has done nothing to harm you_". But the creature paid no heed to Glorfindel's pleas, smiling a sick, twisted smile at the Elf-Lord, as his rough deformed hands clawed at the boy, groping his body as if to prove to Glorfindel this boy was now his property, he could do as he wished.

"_NO! Please, leave him! He is but a child! Do not condemn to the Halls of Mandos so young!_" Glorfindel continued his pleas as the rough claws delved inside the boy's tunic, causing a whimper to escape his lips, tears to fall from his eyes at the horrible invasion.

Harry felt his stomach twist and contort as the monster continued to molest the boy, as the boy inturn shudder under the touch, confusion and fear dancing across his features, and Glorfindel, the anger, the hatred, the compassion burning all at once . He didn't know how much more he could take before the contents of his stomach would violently find itself on the floor of the dark room.

The creature ripped off the boy's tunic, laughing at the horror and disgust on his prisoners face, "_I am in control here, stupid Elf. You obey my rules, or you suffer the consequences_" He threw the boy to the floor, spiting his vile black saliva on him to drive his point home. The creatures left, but their evil laughs remained, echoing in the room.

"_Istari… Istari?_" Glorfindel approached the boy slowly, he hadn't moved since the creatures had left the room, just shook every so slightly on the floor.

Glorfindel knelt down next to him, touching his shoulder ever so slightly, causing the boy flinch and a strangled sob to escape. "_Hush Istari, come Ion nîn_" he whispered, coaxing the child up. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around him, and felt the boy's muscles go tense beneath his touch. He whispered quite, soothing words in his own tongue, so low, Harry could not hear. All Harry could now make out was the quite sobs of the boy, accompanied by the foreign language.

Harry struggled to get air into his lungs, he jumped up in panic and the book in his lap went flying. He walked a few steps, and fell to his knees, violently emptying his stomach. Slowly, his breathing returned to it's regular pattern, and he realised he was back at Hogwarts.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Hermione standing behind him, concern etched on her face. "What happened?"

"I..I don't know" He replied, taking the bottle of water she offered, "I keep having these strange dreams…"

Hermione's concern deepened, "Not about… Voldemort… is it?"

"No, no" Harry replied, shaking his head, "Nothing like that" He paused for a moment, deliberating whether or not to tell her, _Well, you started, can't back down now…_ "Have you got some free time? This could take a while…."

Deep beneath the school, in the quarters under the lake, Professor Snape snapped out of his own daydream, his hands trembling from the memory. Berating himself, he hit his hands down on the desk in front of him, but the tremors did not die completely. He walked over, towards the bathroom connected to his private quarters, grasping the washbasin as soon as he could, as a wave of dizziness overcame him. Grabbing the bar of soap, he began cleaning his hands, becoming more and more aggressive as he went.

Unsatisfied at the progress, he reached for the iron wool in the cabinet, scrubbing harder as the flesh, determined not to stop until he felt clean, until the water turned an ugly shade of brown. The water would start of clear, and tinges of pink would appear, until it was bright red, but he could never get clean, not after these dreams.

He fell to the ground, unaware he was crying until he lent against the cool tiled wall. He couldn't hear the old man calling his name, didn't even acknowledge his presence until he sat down beside him, '_Severus, what has happened? What have you done?'_ he could hear the words, but they seemed so distant, as though he was not the one being spoken to.

Dumbledore tried to take the shaking man in his arms, but was met with Snape lashing out, '_No! Leave Me!'_

_'Calm down my boy, I will not harm you, I promise' _he whispered.

'_You promised l would not be harmed. You promised…'_

_'Yes, I promise…"_

_'No! Daro!! Saes, daro. Saes Ada, saes…' _Snape stopped fighting Dumbledore, but his incoherent mumbling continued, accompanied by his sobs, Dumbledore simply held him tighter, mumbling his own words of comfort.

**Sindarin Translations:**

_Hush, pentithen nîn – _Hush, my little one

_Ada..Bar..Saes..Ada, saes, dan Imlardris – _Dad…Home…Please…Dad, please, back to Imlardris.

_gwaedh, Ada – _Promise (oath) Dad

_I promise, Ion nîn – _I promise, my Son

_Ada!! Daro!! – _Dad!! Stop!!

_Gwaur Yrch – _Filthy (dirty) Orc

_Natha daged dhaer! – _You will all die!

_No! Daro!! Saes daro. Saes Ada, saes – _No! Stop!! Please stop. Please Dad, please.

More to come!! Please review!!


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